The Book of Life: A Winter's Tale
by SilyaBeeodess
Summary: Shortly after Manolo's and Maria's marriage, during the festive bustle of Las Posadas, something has gone terribly awry within the town of San Angel. A gift for one's beloved, a curse withstanding the wrath of time, and a sickly devotion toward the vile and long deceased may place the city in the way of mortal peril.
1. Prologue

_((_ _ **Author's Note**_ _: While it won't affect the overall story, I recommend reading my first Book of Life fanfiction, "The Last Chapter," before reading this one. Two of the main characters in this story—though they are only acting as narrators—require a bit of background information to understand them fully. This information isn't needed to understand the story itself, however, so no worries there.))_

It was dark.

By now, the five young children were used to climbing the large, stone stairway to the museum—the hall to the rift in the realms open to them right on cue and quickly sealed before any others might follow after them. The dim hallway to the beautifully decorated chamber was the very same, yet their flashlights could barely penetrate the shadows within the latter.

"They… were supposed to meet us here, weren't they?" Sanjay turned to face his companions with a raised brow.

"That's what Sasha said," Jane answered, giving the other, smaller girl a small pat on the shoulder. The young blonde's lip had begun to tremble, pursed in disappointment.

"My brother left me this note…" she explained, her tone morose as she unfolded a small sheet of notebook paper from her skirt pocket. "He said they would meet us here today after school."

Just over a month had passed since _Día de los Muertos_ : Autumn had faded like a distant memory and winter had taken its place with December's grand appearance of Christmas lights and holiday decor. For the most part, life had run its usual course for the children—but for the youngest of the five, the elder sibling that had always been able to make time for her hadn't paid her a single visit. She knew he had other responsibilities now, but it didn't make the pain lessen. She missed him…

Before the children could retreat back the way they came, they felt a strangely warm mist coil around them from behind. The scent of the ocean and a bright, orange glow soon followed, along with the mingling sounds of rushing water and a roaring fire. Dismay and confusion was soon turned to bubbling excitement as the five turned around to see the opposing elements spiraling toward them from the hall.

Upon reaching the chamber, the gyre of water separated from its counterpart to hover before them as the spiral of fire continued deeper within. With a subtle burst, it fell apart—raining upon the tile flooring and fabricating a tall, humanoid figure from the droplets. The man that appeared before them was larger than the typical human being, with light blue skin and robes reminiscent of a waterfall and dipped with mist and sea foam. His slicked-back locks truly appeared to be waves that rippled like the ocean itself. His pupils were ultramarine gemstones, cut in the shape of raindrops.

Though this was the first time most of the children had seen the man in his true—while incredibly recent—form as a deity, Sasha beamed up at him and rushed to his embrace with loving familiarity.  
"Lluvio!" she exclaimed, temporary lost in the mist before she felt herself lifted from the ground and into her brother's arms. "You're really here! I was starting to think you weren't coming!"

"You can thank him for our being late," a young woman's voice lightly chided behind him. Eyes turned upon the coiling flame to find that it had morphed into a feminine shape in a full, obsidian gown ruptured with cracks of red, bubbling magma like the bare surface of an active volcano. Her skin radiated with a sunset's gentle orange, her long hair danced across her shoulders as a living flame of its own nature, and her pupils were twin fires. "He's been procrastinating on his final assignments for two weeks now."

"It's hard to tackle both a full-time education and a full-time job," Lluvio retorted with a sheepish grin. "Not all of us can be workaholics like you, Fuega. Besides, I'd say we made a grand entrance of it." That said, he gave Sasha a mischievous wink, provoking a small giggle from his sibling.

With a shake of her head—cocking her hip to the side—Fuega reached a hand within a small, barely noticeable nook in the wall: Soon after, light filled the chamber. The sight of what surrounded them evoked a collection of delighted gasps and a squeal of joy from the children.

It was as ornately decorated as ever, but among the ancient relics and _papel picado_ draped across the ceiling were vibrant strings of multicolor lights and seven-point, star-shaped _piñatas._ A nativity set had also been fashioned, along with a table of traditional holiday foods from Mexico such as _tamales, buñuelos,_ and _champurrado._

"Did you two set all of this up?!" Joao questioned with disbelief as Luka and Sanjay bound past him to the food, following soon after to snatch away one of the _buñuelos_ for himself.

"We had a bit of extra time to spare," Fuega smirked with a minor shrug. "Beyond college, we haven't spent any time in the Land of the Living, and with the holidays approaching we decided to make something special out of it."

"But that's not all," added Lluvio as his lowered Sasha back to the ground so she could rejoin her friends. Rising once more, bringing a hand to his lips, he gave a loud whistle.

On cue, another bold light appeared from within the hall, only this time with a golden hue as the familiar form of the Book of Life darted from within the passage, welcomed by the ecstatic cheers of the kids. They knew all too well without Lluvio's mentioning it what was in store for their afternoon, and Fuega opening the modest chest of figurines only confirmed the notion. Immeadiately, Sasha ran to the dais where the Book now hovered, opening and closing itself rapidly to mimic clapping. Jane soon chased after her, helping her up the steps, followed by the boys—who had loaded down a trio of plates with desserts.

"Before we start," Fuega began, clasping her hands together as she turned from the figurines to the children now gathered around her, "does anyone know what the people of Mexico will be celebrating within a few days?"

As the Book set itself down upon its usual place on the dais and the kids looked to one another for an answer, Lluvio shook his head. "Please don't turn this into a history lesson." He then moved past her to gather the figures himself, and—though clearly miffed at him—she stepped aside and allowed him room. Fuega was better at handling the Book of Life and interpreting the stories, and she could make sense of it better than he could from her studies: It would be his job to make sure the story they told was entertaining enough for his sister and her schoolmates to enjoy.

"I want to make sure they understand it first, otherwise half of the time will be spent asking questions…" she mumbled, raising a hand to her temple only to soon lower it and cross her arms over her chest. From having needed glasses since childhood, the habit of constantly adjusting them was still heavily gained within her even though she no longer wore them nor were they of any use anymore. "The story we're about to tell takes place during a holiday known as _Las Posadas."_

"Posadas!" Sasha beamed, "Like Maria Posada!" The mention of the name enraptured the others as well.

"Not quite," the young woman replied with an awkward grin. "Although I think a certain Maria Posada will make an appearance—along with a few other people I'm sure you're familiar with…" That much got their attention, enough so for her to continue explaining, " _Las Posadas_ in this case means "inns" or "shelters," in reference to when Mary and Joseph from the biblical tale went to Bethlehem and searched for a place to stay on the night that Jesus was born. You see, after Spain colonized Mexico, the Roman Catholic missionaries that also journeyed there found a similarity between Aztec beliefs and Christian beliefs due to the birth of one of the Aztec gods, _Huizilopochtli_ , coinciding with the birth of—"

"Just get on with it!" an annoyed shout interrupted.

Both Fuega's and Lluvio's eyes widened to near perfect circles as the sight of the pair that had suddenly appeared within their midst: The Lord and Lady of death themselves, Xibalba and La Muerte. The former was sulking—and apparently nursing an aching arm from the way he held it and the way his wife uncurled a fist to wave at them in greeting: The latter sat beside him on a wooden bench with a cup of _champurrado_ in her spare hand.

"You guys?!" Lluvio exclaimed, desperately trying to swallow his panic. "What are you doing here…? Not that you're not welcome—no, of course not—but…"

"We came to hear the story too," La Muerte exclaimed with a small pout, revealing a playful smile only just before she raised her cup to her lips. "After all, we're also in it."

"If we didn't keep an eye on you both, I don't want to imagine the consequences," Xibalba added a bit bitterly—though it half seemed he only behaved so for the sake of being bitter. "As far as I'm concerned, you two are on a probationary period. Don't think I won't drag the two of you back to my realm for all eternity if you can't do your jobs."

La Muerte lightly kicked him as a warning against speaking further, grinning at the newly-made deities reassuringly, but Fuega and Lluvio could only cringe with nervous smiles in response.

"Right…" In attempts to help them, the Book flipped to the right page on its own accord as Fuega spun to face it. Lluvio rushed to grab the first of the figurines from the chest and began to maneuver them upon a table set to the side.

"So, our story begins on a cold winter's night, right in the heart of the festivities…"


	2. Chapter 1

The age of the Aztec Empire was coming to an end. Even if the rest of her people tried to turn a blind eye to it, she knew it was true. The foreigner's colonies were growing and their people were dying. Illness swept across the land that not even the greatest healer knew to cure. The gods of old had grown weak and were being replaced by new ones. The world was moving forward, and if they wished to survive the changing currents of the years to come then they had to adjust.

However, not everyone shared her views. That was why—beyond the inland colonies that the foreigners had fashioned and even further beyond the grand Aztec city—she had made her home deep within a small cluster of ruins forgotten even to her own people. The buildings were overrun with foliage and not a soul beside her own lived nearby, but she managed. The earth was fertile, and here the sicknesses that ravaged the rest of the land did not reach her. Her hands kept her busy, and she combated the loneliness of her circumstances with her work. She was a fierce woman: Shelter, a garden, and a warm hearth were all she truly needed.

Company was rare, but it wasn't as though she was completely isolated. Though she knew it was always in secret, there were a few individuals from the city who admired her work as a physician enough to look beyond everything else for the sake of her aid. Not just them—even the foreigners came to her at times as well. All of their company, however, paled in comparison to that of one man…

The stone dwelling that she had made into her home wasn't pitch black, but it was dark enough beyond the light of the small fire that she couldn't make out many shadows. Not a sound was heard on the cold, worn floor. There was no warning, and even if there had been she was so heavily invested into creating her latest herbal concoction that she wouldn't have noticed it. There was barely any time for the faint shriek that escaped her lips and a surprised jerk as a pair of strong arms suddenly ensnared her by the waist.

"My lovely, Eleuia!" chortled the low, husky voice of her captor, "My shimmering jewel! These months I've been away from you have felt like boundless years!"

A sly smile crept on her lips as she relaxed. She knew that voice well: Even across the far horizon beyond the sea, it was one that crept into mind as she dreamt at night. She knew the man's face before she even glanced over her shoulder—raven hair just like her own, eyes as deep a green as the forest, and skin a creamy white. His short, lush curls contrasted so much with her long, straight locks, as did his eyes with her chocolate ones and his skin with her warm, beige complexion. He had a bit of stubble as well as a scar that traced his cheek from his ear to his jaw, but his masculine jawline was so perfectly sculpted that the greatest artists would've been put to shame attempting to mimic it in their work.

He was a beautiful man and he treated her well, but he had an ugly side to him that she was far less fond of.

"No one invited you in," she pursed her lips at him stubbornly. She placed her hands disapprovingly where his arms remained at her waist, but didn't move to remove him. "You don't disappear for months, sneak into a woman's home, and think she'll take you with open arms, Raul."

Her words contradicted the way she felt inside. His visits were typically brief—he came to her and left her in real life just as he appeared and disappeared in her dreams—but she loved them. She loved him. He was an adventurous sort, not easily tamed by any sort of man above his station. He was his own person, his own master—guided only by his heart and the sea. And she knew, however far he drifted away from her, he always somehow managed to come back. He was thrilling and unpredictable, as exciting as the sparks of the burning fire.

And here he was again, back to her as always—arriving with stories and as passionate as any flame could dare hope to be.

A low hum rumbled in his throat, as if he was more a used by her snubbing him, "How can such fierce words come from someone with such a loving gentle touch, I'll never know. But I know you don't mean them—not really. You _can't_ refuse me." With that, she felt a sudden weight and the cold touch of metal against her chest through her robes. Chocolate orbs flickered down to find a golden, circular pendant with intricate markings running along its surface attached around her neck with a delicate chain. "It's called a locket. They're the latest trend able the nobility in Europe. And now it's yours: A beautiful trinket for a beautiful maiden."

He leaned closer, his lips nearing hers, only for Eleuia to break away from him at the last second. She was touched, but… "I don't care for your trinkets," she sighed, "I love you, but what good to me is a man who vanishes and leaves me here, where my own call me a traitor among them and his kind won't accept me? If you want me to be happy, then take me with you."

She loved her work as a physician. She loved her homeland. She loved the stories. She loved them. However, none of them were enough. What Eleuia wanted was to journey with her lover across the far off seas that he told her about. Out there, there was nothing but adventure and new discoveries: Out there, she could be away from the stubborn minds of those that shunned her and be at Raul's side always. Nothing awaited her here except a lonely life and a death by illness.

Raul's grin faltered for an instant. "You know I can't take you with me," he pressed, taking one of her hands in his own, "There are many men among my crew, Eleuia—many cold and crude men. All it will take is one moment while my back is turned for those dogs to sink their fangs into you. I won't allow it." He brought her fingers tenderly to his lips. "Someday, I will retire a _very_ wealthy man. Then, you and I…" Once more, he pulled her to his chest, "We will cross the sea together. We'll travel the world and find some paradise where no one knows our name."

Promises, promises… It wasn't the first time she had heard them. But then again, it wasn't the first time she had bought them either. Melting in the warmth of his embrace, she rested her head against his chest. "Then you best not die at sea on me before that day arrives. I'll be here, waiting for you, until the end…" she murmured, "And if you _don't_ come back for me, then I will cross the horizon to find you myself."

He chuckled at that, "Of course, my love… And now, let us celebrate our reunion with our ritual drink! I've a fine wine I think you'll take a liking to."

* * *

The blank stares of the children caused the rain and fire duo to halt midway in the story. The five of them didn't seem bored so much as… lost. "What?" Fuega pressed as she looked up from the page.

Awkwardly shifting their gazes toward one another first, Sanjay was the one to speak for all of them as he folded his arms across his chest, "We thought you guys were going to tell us a story about Manolo and the rest of them." He then nodded toward the two puppets that Lluvio had been manipulating on the table, each one representing the healer and pirate. "Who are these clowns?"

Fuega pursed her lips lightly at that. "It's called context," she murmured, "These two matter just as much in the story as Manolo, Maria, and Joaquin. Maybe if I could've explained things the first time—"

"We get it: Homework is important," Lluvio voiced under his breath, earning him a wicked glare from his elemental and spiritual counterpart. He felt she was telling the story just fine—better than he could with his lack of knowledge for the culture or period, even after all the reading he'd also done over the past month—but she could do it without turning it into a history lesson.

"I think at this point you can afford to skip ahead a little," a warm voice boomed, breaking through the tension. All eyes fell toward the back of the chamber, where a familiar, towering figure had appeared on the opposite end of the food table across from the other pair of deities—helping himself to a few sweets that, all the while, tried to cling to his pure white beard.

"Candlemaker?!" Lluvio exclaimed, both he and Fuega standing a little straighter at the sight of him. While he wasn't as intimidating as Xibalba or La Muerte could be, instead leaning on the more eccentric side, the pair had come to respect him. It was just beyond them both how such a loud, booming character could sneak in anywhere without being noticed ahead of time. "What are you doing here?!"

"It's the holidays, man!" the Candlemaker pressed, looking a little crestfallen as the shout, "I don't want to be in the Cave of Souls alone! And I can take a _little_ break every now and then." Taking a seat with a place next to the goodies, he clapped his hands together once in encouragement before waving for them to continue, "I can be a good member of the audience: Just get to the good part!"


End file.
